husband has been working on a couple of projects at work 50 - 70 hours a week for months now. He should have help, but at least he has a job, so it's hard to complain. But he has been cranky, and I understand that. Yesterday he mowed the lawn for me (after making that "tsk - groan" noise we all love). We had bought some of those impulse sprinklers that you poke into the ground with as stake. You know, the type that go "click, click, click, click, clicketyclicketyclicketyclickety, click click click". He pulls them out of the ground when he mows, then puts them back in wherever, having also moved the stops on them so they have to be adjusted every time. So, this morning, I go out to water, and he's got it all watering the side of the house and the sidewalk and everything needs to be adjusted. The only accurate way to adjust those is to do it with the water on. Four of them. So, I get soaked. I hadn't even had my coffee yet, and 7 AM it wasn't that warm I wanted to run through the sprinkler. I came in and got a towel and told him he needed to put things back where he found them and how he found them. Went back outside after I put on a dry t-shirt (glad the neighbors didn't see me) and got back to it. When I came in he was gone. Watering everything takes anywhere from an hour to two hours a day, depending upon whether I am doing the lawn. So, I wasn't terribly surprised when I came back in that he was gone for work, and hadn't said "goodbye". At least he had mowed the lawn, I guess. I get around to getting into the fridge for my 1/2 & 1/2, only to find that husband has shoved an extra gallon of milk into the fridge from downstairs and knocked over a container of beef broth on the top shelf of the fridge. It spilled down the walls into every shelf and down to the bottom of the fridge. OK... Get the kitchen towel, wipe it all up, get my coffee. Chilling out. These things happen. He's had a rough week, I've had a rough week, (it's Monday, after all), no one's going to die from any of this. I'll do a real clean up later. I decide that I will go out on the deck and lay in the sun to finish the latest Janet Evanovich book. It's HOT, but I have my water and my mister, and I'm good. Got my top untied so there won't be a tan line, and the neighbor boy comes to walk the dog. Luckily he waited for me to answer the door, but in my sweaty mess with just a t-shirt on I'm sure I was a sight. I go into the kitchen, get more water and ice, and I am dripping with sweat. So, I grab a towel off the counter to wipe my hair and face. You guessed it. It was the one I wiped all the beef broth up with. The dogs now love me. husband has been at work since 8 AM. He finally calls to check in on me. He's having an awful day, and has to wait until 7 PM until someone else finishes something they are doing to check on what he is doing. He'll be there at least until 9. Last week he put in 70 hours, 23 of it in on fell swoop. There's nothing I can do to help him, I barely understand what he is talking about with work most of the time... Today, I opened a nice bottle of sweet wine at 3:45 PM. Never mind that somehow I managed to not wipe the bottle of wine off and I got beef broth all over my new white blouse. That's what Fels Naptha is for. Maybe, just maybe, I'll get around to really cleaning out that fridge. But honestly, I don't give a rip.